Rebecca Moll's Blog - Posts Tagged "trust"
Thin Air by Rebecca Moll
Rebecca Moll
Sit high you do
That’s all you do
Indolent condemnation.
Sit high upon your lofty chair
I hear the air is thin up there.
And thus, you rose with those who posed
In mirrored pontification.
Your judgement sticks, except for this:
Your hands so idle they do remain
No toil, no soil, no strain or stain.
How sweet must be
Such luxury.
Your hair that grows to touch the floor
While rivers rush beneath your door
To fill the shoes you never wore.
And still you sit
Look down upon
Those who fail to rise
and sell yourself the same old lies,
Of things and wings and whirly things we never get to try.
Bread don't rise when compromised,
Oh, but does it try.
Yet know this true:
Tho’ hard to see
Perched high as thee
These feet they too walk ‘long the shore
The sand does part and rent the score
If only for a moment more
‘Til waves that wash forevermore.
‘Til waves that wash forevermore.
Sit high you do
That’s all you do
Indolent condemnation.
Sit high upon your lofty chair
I hear the air is thin up there.
And thus, you rose with those who posed
In mirrored pontification.
Your judgement sticks, except for this:
Your hands so idle they do remain
No toil, no soil, no strain or stain.
How sweet must be
Such luxury.
Your hair that grows to touch the floor
While rivers rush beneath your door
To fill the shoes you never wore.
And still you sit
Look down upon
Those who fail to rise
and sell yourself the same old lies,
Of things and wings and whirly things we never get to try.
Bread don't rise when compromised,
Oh, but does it try.
Yet know this true:
Tho’ hard to see
Perched high as thee
These feet they too walk ‘long the shore
The sand does part and rent the score
If only for a moment more
‘Til waves that wash forevermore.
‘Til waves that wash forevermore.
